As far as she's concerned, he's nowhere near close enough. Leia wraps her arms around him, burying her face in his shoulder for a breath, and then another. If she could, she'd stay right here for the rest of the night, letting herself be awake without really thinking, just thanking the Force for the fact that Han's beside her right now. They're lucky to be alive, could easily have been among the lost. But until he knows the truth, she'll never be able to luxuriate in his nearness with anything like contentment. A secret will always lie between them.

"It's Luke." It's not really Luke, but it starts and ends with Luke in her mind: Luke, who told her, and Luke, who brought Vader's body back to the moon. "I didn't tell you everything today--not everything he told me."

She looks at Han, holding his gaze as long as he'll let her. She'd be a coward to say this to his chest or to the ground, and if there's one thing Leia Organa refuses to be, it's cowardly. "Our father--our birth father--was up there on the Death Star."